The Angel of Death
by LynDea
Summary: Sequel to Truth in the Dark and Death's New Heir by Dark Austral: Reaper, former apprentice of Slade, formerly knows as Robin, is now on his own. When he receives bad news concerning his eye sight, he decides he needs an apprentice of his own. Who will he choose? And how is the world around him being affected by his new position? It all begins in Denver, Colorado.
1. Part 1: She Wants to be Found

**The Angel of Death**

**Part One - **_She Wants to be Found_

_She never slows down_

_She doesn't know why but she knows that when she's all alone, fells like it's all coming down_

_..._

_She wants to be found_

_The only way out is through everything she's running from..._

_- Stand in the Rain, Superchick_


	2. One: The Beginning

**AN: You MUST read Truth in the Dark and Death's New Heir by Dark Austral for this to make any sense at all. This is the sequel to those two. They are AMAZING stories, which is another reason why you should read them. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans or the DC Universe, and Erin/Sariel belongs to Dark Austral. Also, if you recognize it, then it probably isn't mine. Enjoy!**

**The Angle of Death**

**One: The Beginning**

He found me in the corner of the library.

At the time, I didn't know him. He was a stranger to me. But I know him now.

"The Allies consisted of England, France, Russian, America, and later Italy. The Central forces were Germany, Austria-Hungary, and the Ottomon Empire," I whispered through my tears, trying to take in as much information as I could. Learning, and knowledge, was the only thing that could comfort me. Until He came, that is.

I saw that a man was looking at me, and I swiftly wiped my tears away, hoping he hadn't noticed. The man wore slick sunglasses, even though it was kind of dark in the library. He wore a black trench coat, and dark blue jeans. His shirt was black as well. He had heavy boots on his feet, but when he moved, I couldn't hear him. He had black hair that was hanging in his eyes. He looked like Death.

He walked up to me, and I half thought that it was Death himself, here to take me away from my hell hole of a life. He kneeled down in front of me. But instead of bringing out a scythe or asking me if I felt dead yet, he asked me a simple, nice question.

"Are you okay?" He asked me. His voice wasn't harsh, but I had a feeling that this man was a man of power.

"Yes," I said defiantly.

He merely raised his eyebrow.

"No," I finally said. Who was this man? I wondered.

"Want to talk about it?" He asked me.

"I don't know," I said. I was trying to decide if this guy was gonna end up being a creeper or not. You know, one of those pedophiles that hunt down children to... you know, do bad things to.

He sat down beside me and leaned against the bookshelf behind us. He put his wrists on his knees and rested his head against the books. Who was this man? I asked myself again.

"It feels better when you talk about it," He told me.

I just stared at him.

"It's rude to stare," He told me.

I clicked my teeth together and looked at the ground.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

"So, what's bothering you?" He asked me.

I was quiet for a minute. If this guy kidnapped me, I thought, maybe I would get to leave this life behind. It would be an adventure, that's for sure. Wait, what am I saying? I have to get into college and get a decent job so that I can get out of here.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," He told me. What a strange thing to say...

"I just worried, that's all," I sniffed.

"What about?"

I was quiet again. The man was quiet too, waiting for me to answer his question.

"College," I finally told him.

"College? You can't be older than fourteen," He said, looking at me.

"Yeah, so?" I growled.

"Aren't you a little young to be worrying about college?"

"I may be, but I need to get out of here," I told him.

It was his turn to be quiet. The vibes I was getting off this man, were weird. Like, I felt like this guy was major dangerous, but for some reason I wasn't scared. I could just feel like this guy was deadly, and that, maybe, he could even kill me and not give it a second thought. But, instead of killing me, he was talking to me. Which was weird.

Then I realized that he had _that _kind of air about him. The, I'm-all-powerful-so-listen-to-me-you-brat kind of air. I felt that all the time with my parents, and especially my grandparents. But for some reason, instead of thinking he was some snooty, rich guy, I thought of the superheroes.

The superheroes that betrayed us all. That betrayed our trust. I looked at this guy in a whole new light.

"I swear to God. _Please _tell me your not one of them!" I snarled.

He looked at me, startled. "One of who?" He raised a black eyebrow.

"The _superheroes_," I spat the name, like it was a subject not to be discussed in a public place. Or a private one for that matter.

Behind his glasses, I could see amusement in his eyes. "I'm not one of them," He finally told me.

"Thank God! I hate those," And then I proceded to call them every bad name I could think of, and some I probably made up too. "Good for nothing," I continued to mutter.

The man laughed. I glared at him. He turned to me and smirked. I slowly stopped with my swearing and looked at him.

"I like you. The name's Reaper," He held out his hand.

What kind of name is _Reaper_? I thought.

"My name is Erin," I shook his hand, though I had no idea why.

"I'll see you around," He said. He stood up and disappeared as quickly and mysteriously as he had shown up.

"That was major weird," I said to myself. I turned back to my book, but just shook my head and closed it.

I pulled myself up and put the book back in its spot. I fixed a few of the book ends that had slid so that the books were nice and straight. I sighed. _I should probably go home now_, I thought.

"Yeah, or not," I hissed. I would find somewhere else to go, but I didn't want to go home or stay here.

Maybe I could get some coffee. Yes, coffee. That sounded good. I turned and left the library, forgetting about the strange man called Reaper.

~666~

"He wears his heart safety-pinned to his backpack. His backpack is all that he knows. Shot down by strangers who glaces can cripple the heart and devour the soul. All alone, he turns to stone, while holding his breath half to death! Terrified of what's inside, to save his life, he crawls like a worm from a bird! Crawls like a worm from a bird!" I sing.

The Bird and the Worm, by The Used. It was a good song.

I was in a music store, standing in front of one of the machines that plays the songs of your choice so you can listen to them and pick what CD you would want to buy. I had the large headphones on and I sung the songs under my breath. I had finished my coffee a few hours ago, and now I was tuning out to music. Anything to keep from going back home.

"All alone, he's turned to stone, while holding his breath half to death! Terrified, to save his, he crawls like a worm from a bird. Crawls like a worm from a bird."

It was one of those moments when the song you're listening too matches the situation that you're in. I would do anything to crawl away from the situation I was in. Though I would try to do it with as much dignity that I could muster, instead of like a worm from a bird.

I sighed. This wasn't helping my mood at all.

"Look, ma'am, you need to either buy something, or get out," The employee said to me. Rather rudely, I must add.

"What if I don't want to leave?" I asked.

"Then I can get security. Now, buy something or get out!" He yelled at me.

He was a fat little man in an bright orange vest. His name tag said **VERN**. He looked like a Vern.

"Fine," I growled. I picked up my bag and threw it over my shoulder.

I walked outside to see that it was almost dark. Maybe, if I stayed out a little longer, my parents would be asleep when I get home.

"I doubt it," I sighed.

I got myself together, and began to make the long walk home. Might as well get this over with. I could picture the long speech they would give me when I got home late. My friend, Georgie, was always telling me how her parents ragged on her when she got home late.

I pretended that my parents did the same thing, agreeing that it was a total drag. We were teenagers after all. Life was suppose to be a "party" for us. I use quotation marks because it isn't a party. Not for me, at least. When I was out of here, then I would party.

I finally got to my house after walking for about an hour. Instead of being dark and silent, it was lit up like the Fourth of July and music could be heard for miles around. Looks like I wouldn't be sleeping again tonight.

I should probably mention my parents. They're druggies. Well, no. They're not _just _druggies. They were _rich _druggies, who didn't give a damn about me. They were celebs. In the entertainment industry, no less. My dad, who was a good thirty years older than my mom, was a rock star and my mom was an actress.

Would they even realize I wasn't there? Maybe I'll go stay with Georgie or something, I thought.

I turned and headed in the direction of Georgie's house. If they let me, I would always stay at their house. No, scratch that. If they let me, I would spend the rest of my life in the library. I would sleep there, and get food to eat at the store down the street. And I would spend all my free time reading.

Knowledge would never let me down.


	3. Two: Pizza

**The Angle of Death**

**Chapter Two: Pizza**

I saw the same man, Reaper, in the library again. I was sitting in the history section, like last time, reading the same book too. I didn't finish it the last time I was here.

"You're back, I see," He said, taking a seat beside me.

"I can say the same about you," I told him.

"Feeling any better?" He asked me, after looking at me for a moment.

"Not particularly," I told him honestly.

"Want to talk about it?" That same question, I thought.

I sighed. What the hell? I thought. "Why not?" I answered.

He seemed amused by my answer, but he only nodded. I took that as my cue to begin pouring out my soul to this strange man beside me.

"I'm trying to get a scholarship to this one school in Washington. The University of Washington, you know? In Seattle," I told him, looking at the pages in the book I was holding.

"And why is that?" He asked me.

"Why do I want to go there, or why do I want to get into college so early?" I asked him.

"The second one."

I sighed. "Because I figured, if no one is gonna care about me, I might as well take my life into my own hands," I smirked. "It's not like my parents would miss me anyways. They're too busy with their rich, drug filled life to care about me. And my grandparents? Don't even get me started! They're rich bitches from old money who couldn't care less about me. I'm gonna get out of here and do something worth while with my life. At least, I hope so."

He nodded again.

"I mean, I have all the grades to go too. I'm acing all my classes, and I even took the ACT and SAT and passed!" I bragged.

"Congratulations," He smiled at me.

I turned to him in shock. No one had ever said that to me before.

"Uh, what?" I asked, dumbly.

"I said, congratulations. I don't doubt that you could get into any college you desired," He told me.

I sat there, my mouth hanging open. I snapped it shut quickly though, and looked away. I had never been told anything like that before. No one had looked at me like they genuinely thought that I was worth their time.

My stomach rumbled. I hadn't eaten breakfast that morning.

"Hungry?" He asked me. I blushed.

"Uh, yeah," I confessed.

"C'mon," He stood up and held his hand out to me.

I looked at him confused.

"Lunch," He said, pointing to where the front doors where. "On me," He added.

I nodded and took his hand. He helped me up and I put the book on the shelf, not bothering to check if it was the right shelf or not. Who was this man?

We walked towards the front door, side by side. The outside was bright when I walked out, but that was probably because I had spent ever minute since the library opened this morning reading books in the darker light. I blinked back some tears and followed the man I knew as Reaper.

We walked for a while, neither speaking to the other. But it was a nice silence. I took another look at the man. He had to be, maybe twenty? He kind of walked like he had the world on his shoulders. He was kind of skinny, but had major muscle. Georgie would have been drooling all over him.

We finally stopped in front of a restaurant. I looked up. "Denver City Pizzeria!" the sign said.

"Ever had stone-oven pizza?" He asked me.

"Uh, no," I told him.

"Well, then it's about time," He lead me in.

I didn't really know the man, but I was starting to like him. Trust him even. Which was weird, since I didn't really do trust.

We sat at a table, and order. Half cheese, half pepperoni. While we waited, he asked me questions about myself. At first I was hesitant, but after a while I finally started talking boldly. I bragged about my good grades and flawless attendance record at school, even though I thought it was all a real drag.

He asked me what I thought of Denver. I told him that it sucked and I would give anything to leave. He merely nodded.

"Do you have any friends?" He asked me.

"I have one, I guess. Her name is Georgie. She's a complete ditz, but she's nice and her mom makes good food," I told him.

He nodded again. I had never had anyone listen to me talk that long. Even Georgie, who I guess I could consider as my best friend, would get tired of listening to me talk after a while. It was a really strange feeling, but I liked it.

"What is your opinion on the superhero population?" He asked me.

I sighed. "I was a little harsh yesterday, wasn't I? I guess I don't hate them, I have respect for them, actually. But the ones like Wonder Woman and Superman? It just pisses me off how they fly around like they own the world. But do they do any real good? No. I mean..." I stopped for a minute, trying to choose my words carefully.

"There was this war over in Eastern Europe. This major war, where everyone was fighting and dying and everything. I heard that the people, the soldiers, would write notes to the Justice League, asking for help. But did they show up? No. They act like they own the world, when they don't even strive to save it. If that one superhero, Robin," I said his name with reverence. Reaper flinched a little, but I didn't really notice. "hadn't been there to help the people, who knows what would of happened.

"And then I heard he died. Sad, huh? So much good, wasted. They say he was a war criminal, but I think that's a bunch of bull. Batman didn't deserve to have him as a sidekick, and the Teen Titans," I spat the name, "didn't deserve to have him as their leader. He was better than all of them combined," I slowly cut off my rant.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

"Why?" Reaper asked.

"I don't know," I told him, shrugging.

"You don't need to be sorry," Reaper told me.

I just nodded. We finished the pizza and left. I turned to head back to the library, but I waited for Reaper to take the lead. I had the feeling that he wasn't one to follow.

I would have asked him, "What about you?", or "How's your life going?", but it didn't feel appropriate. It felt like one of those moments when, if he wanted me to know, he would tell me. We stopped in front of the library.

"Have a good day," Reaper told me, before turning around and walking into an alley.

I looked down the alley, trying to find him in the dark, but he had disappeared. I shrugged, and walked into the library. I could feel a small smile on my face as I headed back into the history section.


	4. Three: Georgie

**AN: I forgot about the disclaimer for the last chapter, so here it is. I don't own anything, but the plot(which I happen to share with Dark Astral) and so far, Georgie. If you recognize it, I don't own it either. **

**YOU MUST READ DARK ASTRAL'S STORIES TRUTH IN THE DARK AND DEATH'S NEW HEIR BEFORE READING THIS. IF YOU DO NOT, IT WILL NOT MAKE ANY SENSE. THANK YOU FOR READING. **

**Oh, and btw, Dark Astral gave me permission to write this, in case you were wondering and/or worrying. Happy readingC:**

**The Angel of Death**

**Three: Georgie**

"Hey girl!" I looked up when I heard Georgie. "I knew I'd find you here," She smirked at me.

"Hey Georgie," I smiled at her. "Yup, I'm here again."

"Whatcha reading this time?"

"I'm still reading WWI," I told her.

"Really? I would have thought you would have finished that a while ago," She told me.

"Yeah, well, I've been busy off and on," I told her, not wanting to tell her about Reaper.

"You're never too busy for books!" She fake gasped.

I only rolled my eyes, not bothering to answer her. She plopped down beside me and pulled out her history homework.

Georgie was two years older than me. She had long, curly red hair that she could hardly keep tame. She had brilliant green eyes, that I couldn't help but envy. My hair was a boring brown, along with my eyes. I had my hair in a pony tail, while Georgie had it how she usually had it: clipped back away from her face with a large, white, fake flower.

Her dad was a lawyer while her mom was an author. She wrote romance. She was a bit of a drama queen, and that rubbed off on Georgie. Her favorite movie was Phantom of the Opera, which she always made me watch whenever I was over.

"And this is totally perfect! 'Cause you can help me with my homework!" She grinned at me. I smiled back. It was hard not too.

"Okay," I sighed.

"You're awesome! Anyways, what caused it?" She looked at me very seriously, her pencil poised over her homework. Who would of thought they gave out homework like that during summer school?

"The assassination of Archduke Ferdinand," I told her, turning another page in my book.

She paused. "Uh, how do you spell it?"

"A-r-c-h-d-u-k-e F-e-r-d-i-n-a-n-d," I told her.

She nodded and wrote it down. I could hear her look up, but then she froze. I looked at her, then at where she was staring. She was staring at Reaper. He took in the two of us, raising his eyebrow.

I looked at my watch. It was two o'clock. That was when he had usually showed up the last couple days. I bit my lip. He nodded at us, then turned around and left. I sighed. I guess I wouldn't get to talk to him today.

"Dude, did you _see _him?" Georgie demanded.

"Yes, I saw him," I told her.

"Dude," Was all she said.

I looked at her, but her eyes had glazed over. Oh boy, I thought. Here we go.

"Dude?" I repeated.

"Did you see him?" She whispered reverently.

"Yes," I repeated, going back to my book.

"He is gorgeous!" She whispered, getting really close up to my ear.

"I guess," I told her.

She just looked at me funny. "He's not just Zac Effron cute! He's Johnny Depp _gorgeous_!" She squeaked. "Like, I'd _tap _that gorgeous!"

I rolled my eyes. "I guess."

"He may not be your type, but he is defiantly _my _type," She smiled.

"Georgie, he's got to be at _least _twenty," I told her.

For some reason, I didn't want her drooling all over him. He was mine. Or, I mean, he was my friend and I didn't want him to be ruined by Georgie.

"Whatever," she whispered again.

"Keep your hand at the level of your eyes," I joked, taking that saying from the Phantom of the Opera.

She rolled her eyes at me, shaking her head. She seemed to have snapped out of it. I nodded, good.

"So, what's the next question?" I asked Georgie.

"Nah, I give up," She laughed, shrugging.

I nodded.

"So, that guy was totally staring at me," She grinned.

I groaned. "Him again?"

"Of course him again!"

"If we talk about him, then will you drop it?" I asked.

"Yes. Anyways. Did you see his shades? Ermahgerd! Maybe he's hiding something! Like a deformation?" She gasped at her supposedly brilliant idea. "He's like the Phantom of the Opera!"

"Oh boy," I muttered. "Yup, he sure is," I said louder. She ignored my sarcastic tone.

"I mean, did you see that?" She opened her eyes wide.

"Yup. I can't believe it's not butter," I said. She was quiet in her thinking. In the silence, I could swear I heard a laugh.

"You know what? I gotta tweet this!" She jumped up, grabbed her bag, and started to run off. "Oh, see you later. Love you. Mom's making meatloaf, maybe see you there? Text me!" She ran off without waiting for a reply.

I shook my head. Meatloaf, though. That's better than the take out that I would probably have ended up eating tonight.

She was gone for a few minutes when some one else took a seat beside me. I didn't need to look up, I already knew it was Reaper, but I looked up anyways.

I nodded to him.

"Can't believe it's not butter, huh?" He asked me.

"Yes. It's the best way to deal with her," I told him, looking, once again, back at my book.

"She is studying World War One?" He asked me.

"Yeah. She's going to be a junior. I'm going to be a freshman, but she always turns to me when she needs help with her homework," I told him.

"How did you meet her?" He asked me.

I smirked at him. "I tutored her. She was like, You're awesome! Be my friend! My mom makes awesome meatloaf!" I laughed softly.

"Meatloaf, huh?"

"Yeah. It's definitely better than take out. I'd offer you an invitation to come, but one, I don't think you're the kind of person to want to spend time with a group of strangers and two, it's not my place to invite," I told him.

He nodded. "And why do you peg me as someone who would not like to spend a night with strangers?"

"Well, I'm not sure," I told him. "But I know Georgie, and with the way she was drooling all over you, it wouldn't be a pleasant dinner."

He only nodded again. He sat beside me in silence while I continued to read. I was almost done with the book.

"The Treaty of Versailles was signed. It stated that Germany could no longer have a large army and had to pay a war debt. Several year later, Hitler broke the Treaty of Versailles. But that's a different book," I said, not really talking to anyone in particular.

I read the second to last page, which was acknowledgments, and then the last page, which listed the number of people that had died in the war on each side. I closed the book and looked at the cover. It was just a picture of a painting of some war or another. I wasn't sure if it was a picture of World War One, or if was just a picture of a war.

"How is your home life?" Reaper suddenly asked me.

"I haven't really been home all the much. If I'm not here, I'm either at the coffee shop or the music store. But I guess that's during the day. If my parents aren't partying when I get home during the night, I stay there. If they are, which is most of the time, I go to Georgie's house," I bit my cheek, scrunching up my lips in the process.

"Coffee," He agreed.

"Yup. Can't get enough of the stuff," I told him.

"Black," He said.

"I like mine with a little bit of sugar and cream. But I guess it depends. If I'm angry, I drink black," I told him.

He nodded. I looked at my watch again. It was three. That was usually when he would get up and leave again.

"Do you play basketball?" He asked me.

I looked at him in surprise. "Uh, I guess I haven't exactly played, but I guess I'm always up for an adventure," I told him.

"An adventure?"

"Yeah. You know, you never know what happens when you go out. It could be boring, but it can also be fun," I shrugged.

"We should play sometime," He told me.

I looked at him again. "Okay," I said.

"Tomorrow?" He asked me.

"Same Bat time, same Bat channel," I told him.

He smirked and I smirked back. He nodded and left.


	5. Four: His Anger

**AN: New chapter's upC: Hope you guys like it.**

**The Angel of Death**

**Four: His Anger**

I was at Georgie's house. It was around eleven or twelve o'clock. We were watching Phantom of the Opera. Shocker, right? Yeah, not really.

But, to appease Georgie, I sang along with her and the characters in the movie. Her with her beautiful soprano and me with my low alto.

It was during the silent part after Raoul and Christine had sung All I Ask of You at the end of the movie when Georgie turned to me, tears in her eyes. I smiled at her.

"Are you gonna go home or are you gonna stay?" She asked me.

"For the night?" I asked her.

"Yeah," She wiped a tear away.

I smiled at her again. She always got to emotional at the movie. She also always treated it like it was the first time she was watching it.

"I don't know," I told her honestly. "Can you see my house from here?" I asked her, looking out the windows.

"Not usually, but you can hear it from here," She told me. I nodded and perked my ears up, trying to hear and music blaring. It was silent.

"I think I'm gonna try to go home. If they're not partying, I'll stay there. But if they are," I said.

"Then you'll be back," She finished.

"Yeah," I said.

"Kay."

"See you later," I told her.

"Good night," She responded.

I grabbed my bag and left her house. The best thing about it being summer, besides the fact that I can stay in the library all day if I wanted too, is that the nights were warm. It meant I didn't need to wear a jacket. Summer had to be my favorite season.

I got to my house, and looked at it. It was dark and silent. I breathed a sigh of relief. And, if the universe loved me, my parents would be asleep.

I walked up to the door and opened it. Figures it wouldn't be locked. I slowly and quietly shut the door and started tiptoeing towards the large staircase. I was several steps up when the lights turned on. Shoot. I turned around to see my dad.

"Hey, dad," I smiled at him, trying to relax. He was a few yards away, but I could smell the alcohol on his breath. This wasn't good.

"Where have you been?" He demanded.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"The last couple of days, you haven't been around," His eyes were mad.

"Oh, I was spending time with Georgie. She, uh, just had a major break up and she needed girl time," I told him, hoping he believed my lie.

"And you never stopped to check in or call?" He demanded.

"I didn't know you cared," I told him. I was so tired of everything that was going on. I guess I finally snapped.

"What?"

"I said, I didn't know you cared," I said, louder.

"Oh, no. I heard what you said. I asked what hoping that you would change your story."

"I'm not gonna change it when it's the truth!" I lied again.

He leaped forward and grabbed my wrist. He squeezed it tightly and pulled. When I started to fall, he let go of me and stood back as I fell down the stairs. I tried to throw my arms out to stop myself, but I just hit my wrist, and pain shot up my arm.

I bit my lip and shook the pain away. I hit my head as well, and everything got fuzzy for a minute. I turned in the fall and landed on my wrist again. I was afraid that I had broken it.

I landed on the floor in a heap, and just laid there as I tried to process what had just happened. Before I could stand up, though, I heard my dad approach me. I turned to him just in time to see his foot heading straight for my chest.

He kicked me and I rolled away, trying to run. He grabbed me by my pony tail and slammed me to the ground again. He kicked me again, and I could hear something break in my chest. But I still didn't stop trying to get away. I stood up again and he looked at me. He then pulled his hand back and punched me. That would leave a mark, I thought. Great. A black eye.

Maybe I was in shock, not processing that my dad had just. I held my hand up to my face, touching the bruise that was forming quickly. I just stared at him.

"Get to your room!" My dad snarled, pointing up the stairs.

I just nodded, and walked towards the stairs. I held my left wrist, the one that I suspected was broken, to my chest and slowly and painfully climbed the stairs. I walked in the direction of my room. It was the third door on the right.

I opened the door and stared at the sight that greeted me. It was my mom rolling around in my bed with a stranger. I just gapped.

"Breeze... Oh, hey sweety," My mom said, turning towards me. I could tell she was drunk, like my dad.

I looked at the man in the bed with her. I had never seen him before.

"Uh, does Dad know?" I whispered.

"It doesn't matter," My mom laughed, leaning back.

They didn't even realize that it was my bedroom. I shook my head and headed in the direction of one of the guest rooms. I wouldn't be sleeping there again. I entered the guest room and looked at the bed.

If I had a concussion than it wouldn't be smart of me to sleep. I crawled into the bed anyway, and curled up in a ball.

My dad hit me. It had finally sunk in. He had hit me, and he didn't even seem sorry. And my mom was cheating on my dad. And she didn't seem to care. What was happening? Everything was falling apart.

~666~

I prayed with my whole being to whatever god that wanted to listen to me that he wouldn't show up today. I was back in the library, huddled up in the history corner. I had my knees close to my chest and a book hiding my face. I held my sore wrist, which was indeed broken, close to my chest too. I had put a few sticks together and wrapped it up so it wouldn't get worse.

I would go to the hospital later, when I had the confidence. It wasn't safe, I knew that, to just wait around while I had a broken wrist, but I just couldn't face people. They would ask what happened. I wouldn't tell them, but they would probably guess. My dad had hit me and broke my wrist.

No, he didn't break my wrist. I did. It was my fault. I guess I just didn't want to face that. People would blame him, but it was my fault.

I went back to praying that he wouldn't show up. Not that I didn't want to see Reaper, but I just couldn't. Not like this.

I didn't even hear him approaching me, but I knew he was there, staring at me. I shifted to peak over the top of the book, but squeaked. I should have wrapped my chest, I thought to myself. I hadn't even realized that I had been crying until Reaper said something.

"What happened?" He asked.

I looked away, trying to curl up into a ball even more. I was still hiding my face from him. He was a grown up. He would probably see my face and say, you're an abused child, I should call 911.

His hand entered my line of vision and he pulled the book away. I tried to twist away, but he grabbed my shoulder and turned me towards him. I looked at him through a swollen eye and tears. He looked me over, seeing my homemade wrapped up wrist.

"What happened?" He asked again. His voice was deadly. I shrunk back. I didn't answer.

"Your father?" He asked. I didn't say anything, but he probably saw some form of movement on my part that signaled that it was indeed my dad that had done this to me.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" He demanded.

"I h-h-hit my head, and h-he kicked me too. I think I m-may have a broken rib or two," I told him, trying to hold my tears back.

He started massaging my shoulder and I collapsed in on myself and started sobbing. He continued to massage my shoulder while I cried. I gasped and then squeaked when I jostled my side that probably had the broken rib.

"Come on. I'd fix you up myself, but I would feel more comfortable if we had a doctor at a hospital do it," He told me. I just stared at him. Who was this man who said he could fix me up?

He helped me up and together we walked to the hospital that was several blocks away.


	6. Five: No Questions Asked

**AN: Sorry that I'm a little late. This was the end of my school's trimester and I had to catch up with everything that I was missing, yadda yadda yadda. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans or Sariel/Erin. So far, the only thing I own is Georgie. **

**PS: YOU MUST READ DARK AUSTRAL STORIES FIRST BEFORE THIS. Thank you for reading:)**

**The Angel of Death**

**Five: No Questions Asked**

I'm not sure why the doctors didn't ask, it might have been because of Reapers presence or because my face said so, but I was glad that they didn't. Even if they did ask, I wouldn't have told them anything. Reaper just sat beside me, not saying anything, or looking at me, but his presence beside me was good enough for me.

"Can I get a name?" A nurse asked me. I shook my head, no.

She pursed her lips. "What about you?" She asked Reaper.

He smirked at her. I was surprised she was brave enough to ask him. Some of the people here were to afraid to even look his way. Why he scared everyone else, but not me, was very interesting to me.

"Michealson. Seir Michealson," He told her. She stared at him, shock and fear in her eyes. Seir? I thought. Like, the devil Seir?

The nurse just hurried away without even writing the name down. I looked at him.

"You just made that up," I told him.

He looked at me, his eyebrow raised. "The Michealson part. And how did you guess?" He asked me.

"Well, I guess I can get this vibe from people. Like, phycological and what not. I've read a lot of books on that kind of stuff. But, honestly, for you? I just guessed," I laughed.

I turned away from him again and just stared off into the distance. The doctor came in, x-rayed me, and then took me back to where Reaper had waited. They set my wrist, which hurt like a beast, but I didn't say anything. They wrapped it then, and then wrapped my chest up. They then shone lights in my eye, trying to see if I had a concussion. They didn't say anything about it.

When they left to get me a prescription for pain killers or whatever, Reaper stood up. I looked at him and he nodded at me to stand up as well.

"We're going to disappear," He told me. I nodded.

I stood up as well, and he started casually walking towards to door. I followed after him. Since it was the emergency room area, no one had the time to realize that we were walking away. Everyone was so busy, they didn't even realize that we were leaving without paying.

"I hope you won't need pain killers," He told me.

"I can handle pain," I told him.

He nodded, smirking. We wandered back to the library. We got back to the history section and he left me sit on the ground again. I looked at my watch. It was four o'clock. We had never hung out so long before. I looked at him warily, waiting for him to say he had to leave.

"I'm not leaving yet. We haven't had a time to chat yet," He told me, smiling. I smiled back and nodded.

He sat down beside me. We were quiet for a while. I didn't know what to say, hoping that he would begin the conversation.

"You know, you've told me a lot about yourself, but you haven't asked me anything about myself," He said.

"Oh," I blushed. "It's not that I'm not interested, but I kinda figured that you're the kind of person who will only tell someone something if you want them to know it. Does that make sense?"

"Yes, it does," He laughed.

"Well, that's good," I said, scratching the back of my head.

"It looks like you won't be playing basketball for a while," He told me.

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry," I told him.

"No need to apologize. We'll just have to play when your wrist is better."

I nodded.

"So, are you going to ask me any questions?" He asked.

"I don't know. What do you want me to know about yourself?"

He nodded. "Maybe later I'll tell you. Now, I've got to go on a small vacation, but I will be back," He told me.

"Oh, okay," I told him. He got up and left. "See you."

~666~

He was gone for maybe one month.

I was sitting in the library. This time in the anatomy section. I was once again reading about the psyche and the brain. I didn't know that he was coming back today. If I had, I would have been waiting in the history section.

My black eye was gone and I had taken the wrap off from around my chest, though that may or may not have been a good idea. My wrist, though, I left alone. And I had hardly gone back home either. And when I did, my parents didn't even remember that night. They just ignored me, like they always had.

I didn't tell Georgie what happened either. She had probably guessed, but she didn't question me about it. I was glad that she didn't. If she did, I don't know what I would have told her.

When I visited her the night before Reaper had returned, for the first time for as long as I could remember, we watched something other than the Phantom of the Opera. Though it was still a musical. Not a bad one, but a musical none the less.

"Mary Poppins," Georgie told me when I asked her what we were going to be watching.

"Okay," Was all I said.

She was silent while the movie started.

"Okay, what's got your knickers in a twist?" She finally demanded.

I looked at her, startled. "What do you mean?"

"You've been done in the dumps for as long as I can remember," She said.

"Georgie, it's only been a month," I told her.

"Aha! So you know what I'm talking about!" She said.

"Yeah, I guess I do," I said.

"So, what is it?"

I sighed. How would she react if I told her her Johnny-Depp-gorgeous-guy was my friend and that he had been gone for the last month?

"It's just my parents," I finally said. "They don't even remember what happened that night."

She looked at me. "Are you sure about that?"

"Georgie, please? Can we just watch the movie?"

She said. "Yeah. But you do know that if you're having a hard time, you can come to me, right?" She asked me.

"Yeah, I know."

I thought back to that conversation right before Reaper showed up. It was just crazy, I thought. I barely even knew this guy, but he knew all about me, and I missed him. I wasn't sure, but he made me feel kind of safe. Like a father would.

"Black? Or cream and sugar?" A voice asked me.

I looked up and saw Reaper. "Cream and sugar," I told him.

He handed me the appropriate coffee. I took a deep gulp and sighed in ecstasy. I hadn't gone on a coffee run for a while, I thought.

"Are you going to ask me how my vacation went?" He asked me.

"I kinda figured that, if you wanted me to know, you would tell me," I told him.


	7. Six: No Answers Given

**I've been so busy and have completely spaced updating this and I'm sorry!D: I can only blame school and my horrible memory. **

**Anyways, I don't own anything/anyone, except Georgie. (Is that right? Curse you grammar!)**

**The Angel of Death**

**Six: No Answers Given**

He sat beside me on the ground and looked at what I was reading.

"Anatomy?" He asked.

"Yeah," I told him. "I just finished reading about the pressure points and I decided I would touch up on my psyche. I was thinking about being a doctor."

He nodded. He seemed... different some how. I wasn't sure what it is.

"Are you okay?" I asked him. He looked at me, surprised, like he didn't think that I would sense that something was up.

"It's... complicated," He told me, looking off into the distance.

"But you'll tell me when you want me to know?" I asked.

"Yes," He told me, smiling. I smiled back. "How is your wrist?"

"It's getting better. I went to a different hospital to get it checked out and they said it was healing nicely," I told him.

"That's good," He said. "Maybe we can play basketball once the cast is off."

"Yeah," I said, nodding.

"Your father set us back a couple weeks," He said. I just stared at him. What could he have meant? I wondered.

"I guess," I said.

He nodded.

We sat in silence, like always, while I read and he just stared. Though if he was staring at me or staring into space, I wasn't sure.

"The brain is made up of many sections. The most notable ones, which also coincide with the bones of the head, are the frontal lobe, parietal lobe, temporal lobe, and occipital lobe," I said.

"Which one deals with eyesight?" He asked me.

"The occipital lobe," I told him.

"It's all the way in the back of the brain, though," He said.

"Yeah. I don't know how it works, but it does," I told him.

"Pressure points?" He asked me.

"Yeah. Example, if you were fighting, the right pressure points could weaken your opponent," I told him, but I had a funny feeling like he already knew that.

We were quiet again. I bit my lip, wondering if I should say what was on my mind.

"Go on," He said.

I sighed. "I have to admit, and I'm not proud of it, that I thought that maybe you had just left me," I told him, frowning.

"You've had people leave you before," Reaper said. It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

"Yeah," I whispered.

"Who?"

"My aunt, my sister, my uncle, my mom's uncle, my dad's dad," I said. "I could go on for a while."

"My mom and my dad were killed when I was little," He told me. I froze.

I looked at him. He had never said anything about himself before. Did he trust me, for some odd reason?

"I'm sorry. That's horrible," I told him.

He shrugged. "It was a while ago."

"Doesn't make it any less painful," I told him.

"Yeah, you can say that again," He muttered. "But after a while, you have to get used to is."

It was my turn to nod.

"To admit, I was kind of happy they had died."

I looked at him, my face full of shock.

"I don't mean it like that," He said. "It's just, to get in to my line of profession, you need to burn a lot of bridges. And the fewer you have to burn, the better."

"What do you mean?" I asked him.

"I'll tell you. Eventually," He told me. He got up and left.

I looked at my watch. Yup, it was three o'clock. I nodded to him as he left.

What line of work would you have to burn bridges for? I thought to myself. I looked at my book, then at my watch. I put the book away, and then peeked around the corner of one of the books cases, trying to see if Reaper really had left the building. I couldn't see him, but I had a feeling that that didn't really mean anything.

I walked up to one of the computer terminals, my backpack hanging off one shoulder. I sat down at one and turned the computer on. They were dinosaurs. They would take forever to turn on. When they finally did turned on, it asked for name and library card number. I had to pull my card out to get the number.

After I signed in, I got onto the internet. I got onto Google next. I sat for a minute, trying to decide what to type in.

'What job would you have it you had to burn bridges?' I typed in. Construction crews popped up. No, that's not what I wanted.

'What job would you have if you can't have any friends?' I typed in next. Wow, this was stupid. "Harry Potter, Unspeakables." That didn't help me.

'What profession would you have if you had to be alone?' I wasn't doing very good at this. Not a lot of options came up. I sighed.

'Professions: burning bridges, no friends, alone', I tried. A blog came up. 'If you do this, then you're probably this!'. It said.

I shrugged. I clicked on it.

"If you burn bridges and have no friends, then you're probably an assassin!" It screamed at me. I looked at it. It was a joke website, I knew that from the clowns and whoopee cushions, but it gave me an idea. Was Reaper an assassin? I asked myself. But I knew that if he wanted me to know, he would tell me. And he told me he would tell me. Eventually.


	8. Seven: I'd Tell You, But

**So, I'm catching up:) And the only problem is, I'm getting caught in the dreaded writer's block. That seems to be a thing with me right now, 'cause I'm stuck with almost all the other stories I'm working on too. Hey, great idea. Give me ideas! What do you want to see next? I've already got part one done, and I'm not itching to re-write it just to add more ideas, but what about part two? It will be when she's Sariel and all that. Just throw out ideas. I would toats love them. Thanks:) On with the show!**

**The Angel of Death**

**Seven: I'd Tell You, But Then I'd Have to Kill You**

If Reaper was an assassin, then what was he doing hanging with me? Was I on his hit list? What had I done to get on his hit list? Were my mom or dad on his hit list? Was he being friends with me to get to them? Who was he?

All of these questions flew through my head. I knew that I should probably be scared, but then I remembered that I had felt kind of safe with him. He had been nice to me. He had listened to me. And would it really be so bad if he killed one of my parents? No, not really. I wouldn't care. Or stop him.

And how would I approach him about it? I mean, I don't want to be rude. I can't exactly walk up to him and say 'hey, are you an assassin sent to kill me and/or my parents?' That would be awkward.

No. I was going to watch him. If he made any indication that he was truly dangerous, then I would either say something, or tell him to leave me alone. Yeah. That's what I'll do, I thought.

I turned back to the computer. Going back to Google, I typed in **REAPER**. Nothing came up except stuff on the Grim Reaper. **REAPER: ASSASSIN**. I tried. Still nothing came up.

**LIST OF ASSASSINS**. I typed in. I clicked on the first one that popped up. On the top of the list was Deathstroke. The hair on my arms stood up just from reading the name. I clicked on it.

It said that not much was known about him. He was feared by hero, civilian, and villain alike. Though a year or two back, he was found in a German prison. Wounded and delusional, he muttered something along the lines of "The brat finally did it" or something like that.

He was no help. It didn't even describe what he looked like. I went back and looked over the list of assassins. I groaned when I realized that most, if not all besides Deathstroke, were fictional. Waste of time, I thought. What did I think I would find?

I had two weeks left with the cast. When it came off, Reaper said that we could play basketball. Why he wanted to play basketball with me, I wasn't sure. But I didn't really care.

It was something to do. It's not like I had anything better. Until then, I would be stuck reading in the library. Speaking of library, I could go for another coffee...

~666~

Two weeks later, I got my cast off. I was so relieved to finally be able to move my left hand. I didn't write with it, but it was a relief none the less. Not only could I use it, but I could also finally play basketball with Reaper. He had seemed kind of excited about it.

Though he didn't really let me play until at least another week. He told me he didn't want me breaking my wrist again. I just nodded and did what he told me to do. It was a Friday when he finally said we could play.

I showed up to the library in a blue tank top and black basketball shorts. I was wearing a pair of tennis shoes that I guess everyone were calling Vans. All I knew was that they were comfy and I could run in them.

I sat cross legged in the history section. I had tried reading anatomy, but it didn't hold my attention like history did. I was reading about World War Two. Hitler wasn't even German, but he got all of Germany to follow him. It kind of reminded me of Robin and the civil war he was in.

It wasn't his war to fight, but he fought it anyways. Except Robin had been the good guy, and Hitler hadn't been. They were also both dead. It was a shame. On Robin's behalf, anyways. He was the only good hero. And he wasn't even a metahuman.

I looked at my watch. It was almost two. He would be showing up in a few minutes. I wondered what would happen when school came back. Would we keep meeting at the library? Except at a different time instead of at two? I thought. I hoped so. But I had also learned that hope could kill you if you weren't careful.

He showed up, right at two. I was surprised at what he was wearing. He was wearing a pair of basketball shorts like mine. But his shirt was gray instead of blue. He was even wearing tennis shoes instead of boots. He still had his sunglasses, though.

"Ready?" He asked me.

"Yeah. There's a basketball court at the elementary school a couple blocks that way," I told him, pointing east.

He nodded and we headed that way. I was kind of excited for this. I had been waiting for a while. The way Reaper would bring it up, he made it sound like it was going to be an adventure as well as a game. I wondered how he could make it both.

I watched people as we walked. They would send a look or two at us, but keep on going. I wonder what they thought when they saw me, a fourteen year old girl, walking with Reaper, who looked like a twenty year old man. I ignored them, though. Maybe they were just staring at me because my parents were famous and I was rich. Then I paused for a minute.

Maybe that's why Reaper was hanging out with me. Because I was rich. Maybe, like Richie last year, he just wanted to get into my pants, as Georgie would say, because of that. I just shook my head. Reaper didn't seem like the type of guy, but I guess I would need to keep an eye out on him.

"What's bugging you?" He asked me. I should have known that he would notice something.

I sighed. "I'm not sure I want to talk about it," I told him, honestly.

"You don't trust me," He said. I stopped walking. He hit it on the head.

"Uh..." I tried to say.

"I understand. I haven't exactly given you a reason to trust me. It's good that you don't trust me, actually. But it might change with time," He said. I just looked at him.

"Okay," I said.

I could take care of myself, I figured. Georgie made me practice with her when she tried kick-boxing, and again when she tried karate. I had continued with it a little, but Georgie had dropped it when she got bored. I wasn't worried. I could take care of myself, I told myself again.

"Here we are," Reaper said. I nodded. We walked into the area and looked around.

"Oh, I didn't think to bring a basketball," I told him.

"No problem. I'll get one. I'll meet you over by that hoop," He told me.

I nodded and he walked off. I watched him for a while, then started walking towards the hoop he had pointed towards. Where he was going to get the basketball, I wasn't sure. I didn't really care.

I stood under the hoop and started stretching. I touched my toes and held it for thirty seconds. Then I stretched my sides, and my arms were last. I rotated my ankles and wrists, then I looked around again. I finally saw Reaper round the school corner carrying a basketball.

I nodded and smiled. He took the ball and threw it to me. I was surprised that he tried to throw it from so far away, but I was even more surprised when I was able to catch it. Then, out of no where, he pulled out two bottles of water. This guy was amazing, I thought.

He set the bottles on the ground and walked over to me. He held his hands out and I threw the ball to me.

"Now, let us begin," He smiled.


	9. Eight: Two Way Streets

**A/N: This chapter(as well as the next) is dedicated to SladeRavenFan, for being there after every chapter, and giving me great ideas. **

**Disclaimer: The Teen Titans belong to DC, and Sariel and other characters soon to come belong to Dark Austral, the amazing. Not even this story is mine, honestly. I mean, I'm filling in spaces, but I'm taking ideas from Death's New Heir. **

**Read Truth in the Dark and Death's New Heir. Not only are they amazing, but this won't really make sense if you haven't read it. Thanks guys for sticking with me for so long!:) **

**The Angel of Death**

**Eight: Two Way Streets**

Trust is a two way street. That's what my dad would always tell me. I believed him. After all, if I can't trust you, then you shouldn't trust me.

And, unfortunately, I didn't trust Reaper. The way he acted, though, made it seem like he trusted me. Why, I wasn't sure. Maybe because he thought that, in the future, I would trust him? I could only guess.

That day, when we played basketball, I saw what he meant by an adventure and a game. I had played basketball once or twice, but I hung out with Georgie at school games, so I knew what it was suppose to look like. I played like I had seen it played, but with the way that Reaper played, he made it look like... what was the word?

I would say dance, but that didn't seem to fit him. I mean, he had this amazing grace that I never would have a guessed a guy that age could have. Like, acrobatic grace. The way I saw him move, I could also see that he was a fighter too.

His shirt sleeve lifted up at one point, and I saw a number on his arm. The only numbers I could make out were 666. Interesting, I thought. I had heard it was the devil's number. It's probably good I'm not religious. I laughed to myself.

The way he moved, it made me envious. Maybe I would start doing yoga with Georgie. It was her passion of the month, which, so far, had lasted almost all summer. It was a miracle, in my opinion.

I was a natural athlete, I found out. But Reaper still beat me. We had run up and down the court and he wasn't even breathing hard. I was breathing a little deeply, but that was still more than him.

"You seem to be a natural athlete," He told me.

"I guess. Whenever Georgie goes to the gym, which is once or twice a week, she drags me along with her," I told him. He nodded, as usual.

We both sat on the ground. I started to drink my water, but Reaper was looking around like he would never see this place again. Or see again, for that matter. He didn't act like this before he had left. What did he learn while he was gone?

After we had rested for a while, we got up, stretched, and played another game. He won again. But it had been a close game. Ish.

I looked at my watch. We had hung out for almost three hours! I smiled. It was nice to have someone to hang out and talk with.

"Miss. Davidson!" I heard someone call. I groaned. It was my old geometry teacher. "Don't you know it's not safe to talk to strangers?" She demanded. I stared at her.

"For your information, I can do whatever I want," I told her.

"Yes, but remember Richie?" She asked. I froze. Of course she would bring that up.

"I'm glad to know that you think that the only people would want to hang out with me are in it for my money," I snapped. "Besides. It's not even your business."

"These are dangerous times to be out. You could be hurt. Or kidnapped?" She argued. Why am I even doing this?

"Which is why her parents hired me. I'm her body guard," Reaper said, holding his hand out to my teacher. "Walkers," He introduced himself.

"Carins," She said, smiling.

I just stared at him. "Uh, yeah?" I said. He smiled at me.

"Ah, well. Continue, then," She said. She walked away.

"People like her, ugh!" I said.

"Sticking their noses where it doesn't belong," Reaper agreed.

We were quiet again. "You're not really a body guard my parents hired, are you?" I asked him.

That had never occurred to me. I could feel my heart breaking, but I didn't even know why. So what if he was just a body guard? It would explain why he was here. Why he had suddenly approached me that day in the library a little over two months ago. I got angry.

"I bet you are. Why else would you just suddenly approach me in the library? Why else would you hang out with me. How much are my parents paying you? I thought that maybe you were different!" I yelled at him.

"Erin," He said, maybe even warned.

"No. I'm leaving. It was nice knowing you. Just, leave me alone," I told him. I turned and ran away, leaving him behind.

I shouldn't have been surprised. It wasn't anything new, I thought. And I had told him a lot of things, too. Personal things. I bet he would tell my parents everything. How I didn't like to go home and always hung out with Georgie. How I hated them and wanted to run away? How could I trust someone so blindly?

"Erin!" I turned around to face Reaper, tears running down my face.

"What?" I demanded.

"I'm not a body guard. I told that lady that to get her off our backs. I hang out with you, because I see something promising in you," He told me, standing before me.

"I don't care what you see in me! I can't believe I tru- was starting to like you. I'm such a fool. All for the money, huh?" I turned and started rushing away again.

"Erin. Please. Listen to me," He said. He took his sun glasses off, showing me his bright, blue eyes.

"No. Please. Leave me alone," I told him.

I turned and started running again. When he called my name, I didn't stop. I kept on running.

Why was I so heartbroken? I didn't trust him! Why should I be so angry that he lied to me, when I didn't even trust him in the first place? My self-loathing just went up and up.

And now where am I suppose to go? The library wouldn't be the same. I would remember all our 'good times' and how it had been a lie. I couldn't go to the pizzaria, which had recently become my favorite place in the world aside from the library, coffee shop, and music store. He took me there, it was practically the first time we had hung out. I didn't want to go to the coffee shop or the music store either. Hell, I didn't even want to go to Georgie's.

Maybe I'll just spend the rest of the night walking around, and go home when I don't have anywhere else to walk to.

Then, I realized why I was so heart broken. I had begun to trust him.


	10. Nine: Mistakes and Forgiveness

**This is an early chapter present for you guys:) Enjoy!**

**Chapter dedicated to SladeRavenFan, because this chapter was pretty much all her idea. **

**Disclaimer: This belongs to either DC or Dark Austral(who is amazing). I highly suggest you read her stories, Truth in the Dark and Death's New Heir. Not only are they awesome, but this probably won't make a lot of sense if you haven't read those first. **

**And: Any ideas for what you want to see in Part Two of Angel of Death will be greatly appreciated. Thanks guys:)**

**The Angel of Death**

**Nine: Mistakes and Forgiveness**

God, what an idiot I am, I thought.

I had begun to trust the dick. I should have known. I should have learned from all of my life experiences that I wasn't worth while to anyone unless money was involved. My parents didn't even care about me.

Why was I foolish enough to think that some guy who I met in the library would want to be my friend? Why was I idiotic enough to think that maybe, just maybe, he liked me for me instead of my parents' money? That was a large portion of my life wasted. And who knows how long this is going to go on.

When I get the nerve, I'll confront my parents about this. The least they could have done was warn me. That way I could have kept clear of him. I could have avoided this whole thing, this whole mess.

The sun was slowly setting, but I wasn't paying attention. I didn't care. I was letting my self-hatred eat at me.

I was reckless. I wasn't paying attention. I wasn't watching out. I didn't care.

When I did finally start paying attention, I was trapped. Well, figuratively at least. But if I wasn't careful, it would be for real.

I looked up, and met the eyes of a pair of men standing in my way on the sidewalk. They smirked at me. In one of the men's hands, I saw the glint of a knife. I was screwed.

I stepped back, and tried to turn around. There were three more behind me. They were the same as the other two. One was carrying a knife, while another was carrying a chain. I didn't want to know what it was for.

I turned and saw an alley to my left. I looked between the two groups of men, and bolted into the alley. I ran as fast as I could, hoping to get away. I was so stupid. Again. And now my idiocy was going to get me killed.

I was almost to the end of the alley way, when I had to stop again. Another group of men were waiting for me at the end. I skidded to a stop, and started backing up. Then I remembered who was behind me and I stopped.

I twirled around and saw the group of men at the other end. I looked over my shoulder and saw the second group getting closer. They were all moving, slowly, towards me, trapping me in the process.

Trying to protect my back, I put it up against the wall. I was terrified. I tried to recall what I had learned in that karate class with Georgie, but it was all drawing a blank. Kick boxing wasn't coming to mind either.

"Leave me alone," I said. I tried to make it sound threatening, but it just came out as a pathetic plead.

"Not gonna happen, sweet cheeks," One of the guys said.

"Yeah, we recognize you. Your parents owe us money," Another said.

"You have got to be kidding me," I whispered.

I assumed they planned to take me for ransom, but I knew it wouldn't work. My parents didn't care enough about me to pay these thugs back for my safety. Good-bye cruel world.

While I was busy with my thoughts, they had finally surrounded me. One grabbed me around the neck, and slammed me against the wall. My head hit the wall last, and stars popped out in front of my eyes.

When the stars cleared, I noticed the man holding the knife to my throat. He was breathing in my face, and I was trying to keep from gagging. Then I thought, hey, if I'm going down, might as well go down swinging. But instead of getting violent, I decided to get snarky.

"Dude, you either need to brush your teeth, or take a breath mint. Hell, chew some bubble gum for all I care. Just get your nasty breath out of my face," I told him, coughing.

That earned me another slam against the wall.

"Don't be a smart ass," He snarled.

"I'm afraid it's too late," I said.

I gasped when I felt the knife cut into my neck. It was a small cut, I knew, but it was the precursor to what was yet to happen.

"That's for being a smart ass. Keep talking, and it will get worse," He threatened. "Yo, get me the chain."

The man with the chain came forward, and the man holding me flipped me around so that my face was against the wall. He grabbed my arms harshly, and started wrapping the chains around my wrists.

"A chain? Really? You'd do better with rope," I couldn't help but say.

I was answered with a smack against the back of the head. The stars came back. I squinted my eyes, trying to make them go away. I was starting to develop a headache.

Suddenly, there was a crash behind me. I cowered for a minute against the wall, before turning around when I felt the breath of the man behind me disappear. I turned around, and saw Reaper.

The look in his eyes frightened me, but only for a second, for I knew he was protecting me. He moved so fast, I could barely keep up. He would kick one man, then punch another. I gasped when I heard bones snap, but that was the only sound I made.

When I became aware of my limbs again, I started trying to get the chain from around my wrists. When I got my hands free, I took the chain in my hand. Reaper was handeling himself well, and I didn't want to get in the middle. Then I had an idea.

"Reaper," I said.

He turned to me for a fraction, and I tossed him the chain. He caught it, and wrapped it around one of the guys' necks. With a snap, I heard his neck break. I closed my eyes, looking away. I couldn't watch this.

Not that it bugged me. I was glad the jerks were getting what was coming to them. It was because all the moving and spinning was making me sick to my stomach. I probably had a concussion. Why was it so hard for me to avoid getting hurt?

I fell to the ground and held my head in my hands. For just a minute, I let tears run down my face. I had been so close to dying.

There was the sound of shoes scuffling away down the alley, and I looked up to see the alley empty except for me, Reaper, and a body or two. I let out a choked gasp, glad that it was over. Reaper turned to me and rushed to my side.

"They cut you," He told me, tipping my head up to look at my neck. I had forgotten about that.

I didn't say anything. I was in shock, I realized. I just looked up at Reaper, surprised that he was here, just to save me. For some reason, it was hard for me to believe.

"Can't stay out of trouble, can you?" He joked.

"You saved me," I said.

"Yeah. I did," He smiled at me. "You're a friend, Erin. I wouldn't let them hurt you."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because. I like you, I see promise in you. You can help me, if you're willing," He answered.

I realized that he had saved me, finally. He had saved me, even though I had shouted at him earlier. Even though I was mad at him and said I didn't want to see him again, he still came to save me. I felt relief. Maybe he really was a friend.

"Anything," I told him.

"But, I want you to do this because you want to, not just to pay me back for saving your life," He said.

I nodded. "What's the matter?" I asked.

He helped me stand up, and let me lean on him when I lost my balance.

"Erin, I . . . I'm going blind," He told me at last, after helping me down the alley for a minute or two.

"Blind?" I gasped.

"Yes. It's a long story, but my eyes are failing me. I'm going to need someone to help me, to be my eyes, to take over when I'm done," He told me.

"What do you need me to do?" I breathed. I was willing to do anything for him.

"I have a job. It's important, and it requires all my time, focus. I need an apprentice, to help me, and to take over when I must retire."

"And you want that to be me?" I whispered.

"Yes. But my job, it's not for the faint of heart," He told me.

"What is it?"

"It's two things, actually," He responded. I waited for him to continue. "One, is theft. The other . . . is assassination."

I froze. Assassination? He _killed_ people? What was wrong with him? How could he kill people? How could it be his _job_? Why did he do it? More importantly, why did he want _me _to help him?

But, then, I realized that, for some reason, it didn't bother me that that was what he did, who he was. "I'll do it," I told him.

"You don't have to decide right away," He told me.

"But if I did decide yes, you would train me to be an assassin?"

"Yes."

"Then I accept."

"Please, Erin, think about it. What I am asking of you, it's not something you can decide right away," He said.

"Then, I guess I'll think about it," I told him. I said I would think about it, but I already knew what my answer was going to be.

"Okay," He said. "And now, we need to get you patched up."

We continued on, probably to where he was staying. He said something about stitching me up, but I wasn't paying to much attention. I put my hand to my neck, to try to stop the bleeding while we walked.

He had just asked me to be his apprentice. An apprentice to an assassin. I would kill people. I would steal things. Why wasn't I freaking out? In fact, why was I feeling a little excited?


	11. Ten: The Stories

**AN: Forgive me for being late! School had been killer! Here is it:**

**The Angel of Death**

**Ten: The Stories**

A couple days after Reaper had saved me from being jumped, and had stitched me up as well, he showed up at the library, I was reading the book that I had just received in the mail. It was about the civil war that had been over in Eastern Europe, the one that Robin had supposedly fought in. I hadn't heard a lot about it, but I wanted to change that.

I remembered the day when Lex Luthor had gone on air to tell us about the truth of the superheroes, like it was yesterday. Even though I had been younger at the time. I didn't know a lot about the superheroes, except that everyone looked up to them because of everything that they had done for us.

I never even stopped to think about the wars. They were here to save the city, but what about the people who didn't live in those cities? Why was it just America that seemed to get the help from the superheroes?

In World War Two, my dad's uncle was killed. My grandpa was never the same, and I don't think my dad was either. There were superheroes back then. They called themselves The Justice Society of America. But where was the justice for the people in Germany? How many people would have survived if they had helped?

And then there was the tax stuff. At the time I was too young to understand, but I got it now. Even though we were rich, it was still a rip off to have to pay more taxes to fix something that a metahuman broke. Robin was a true hero, only because he was there to help those people.

When Reaper started walking up and saw what book I was reading, he stopped.

"Where did you get that?" He asked. I wasn't sure what was up with him.

"I bought it online. I wanted to know about the war that Robin fought in," I told him.

"Who wrote it?" He asked.

"Some man named Pavel. I don't know if it's his first name or his last name. It's the only name on here. But he claims to have been in the war, and even a close friend with Robin, who at the time went by Dimitry," I told him.

"Looks like I'm going to have to talk to him about that," He sighed.

"What do you mean?" I asked. I had said that a couple time lately, I thought.

"Besides the fact that it's a long story? We'll talk about it another time," He told me.

I nodded. He sat beside me. "What does the book say so far?" He asked.

"I just started it," I told him.

He looked at it. "It's in another language," He told me.

"Well, yeah," I said. "It's the only way I could get it. Until I can speak the language, I guess I'll just look at the pictures," I told him.

It wasn't a picture book, but it had quiet a few pictures in it. They were all taken during the war at different places. Every time I came to a new picture, I would look at it for a while, trying to take in it all. So far, at least three pictures had featured Capt. Dimitry.

From what I had heard about the war, after it was over, Dimitry had been persecuted for something he hadn't done. It sickened me what people would believe. I couldn't even begin to imagine how he would have felt.

I looked at Reaper. Then at one of the pictures of Dimitry. They kind of looked the same, I thought, though I didn't want to start connecting the dots. It didn't seem appropriate. If he wanted me to know, he would tell me.

"I see you haven't started freaking out about my choice of profession," He said.

"Honestly, I would do anything to get out of here. It doesn't bother me," I said. "And I have no idea why." I also didn't want to add that I would do almost anything for him.

"There isn't a problem with that," He told me.

"Okay," I said. I accepted that.

Was I willing to kill people just to get away from my parents? I mean, to kill people? What would happen to my humanity? I thought.

"You don't have to decide now, Erin," He told me.

"I know."

I went back to reading. In the quietness of the library, I remembered what had happened a few hours before he had saved my neck. "I'm sorry I shouted at you," I told him.

"There's no need. As long as it doesn't happen again," He told me.

"It won't," I assured him.

"Good."

"What will I have to do if I accept your offer?" I asked him.

"Well, you would become my apprentice, and in return I would be your master. I would teach you everything that I know, and when I've retired, you would take over for me," He told me.

"What all do you do, again?" I asked him.

"Theft, and assassination jobs," He responded.

"What is it like? You know, stealing things?" I didn't really want to ask about the killing people thing, at least not yet.

"Depending on the item you have to steal, it can be easy or hard. I, personally, think it's fun," He said.

"It sounds like an adventure," I agreed.

"It is."

"How do I go about learning?"

"It depends. What do you know?"

"I know some kick boxing and karate, thanks to Georgie and her ever changing mind when it comes to after school activities," I said.

"If you truly agree, then we'll have to see. Then we'll go from there," He told me.

"Sounds like a plan," I said.


	12. Eleven: To Burn a Bridge

**AN: Woot! 11 chapters:) Now, I'm sorry to tell you guys this, but, so far, part 2 is going no where. So, in order for me to catch up and everything, I won't be releasing part 2 on here for probably a month or two. Don't hate me, and don't give up, cuz I'll still be here! I'm just way behind. And school isn't helping. Ugh. Anyways.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but Georgie. Enjoy.**

**The Angel of Death**

**Eleven: To Burn a Bridge**

It was the first time I had gone home in a long time. In the past, I only stopped by to shower and get new clothes. They never said anything about it. They were always too busy. But that was okay. Because, in the end, that was what helped me decide to leave.

"What do you have to do to burn bridges?" I asked Reaper one day.

"It depends on the person," He told me.

"What did you have to do?" I asked. "You know, if you don't mind me asking."

"I destroyed what mattered most," He said.

"What would I have to do?"

"It depends on what you feel like doing," He shrugged.

"My mom's favorite thing is her drugs," I told him. Closing my eyes. "My dad's is his beer. Is it horrible that the thing that matters most to them isn't each other?"

"Maybe. If you wanted the ideal family, I guess it would be. But not everyone gets the ideal family," He told me.

I could feel the tears coming. "They haven't even realized that I haven't been home the last couple weeks."

He put his hand on my shoulder. "Not everyone gets a happy ending. It's up to you to make your own."

"I think you're right," I said, trying to wipe the unshed tears from my eyes.

"What about Georgie?" I asked him.

"What about her?"

"How would I burn a bridge with her? I don't exactly want her to hate me," I said, biting my lip.

"You may not have to. You never know what will happen in the future. Maybe she will be useful," He told me.

"Honestly, I always thought that," I said, laughing softly.

"Good," He smiled.

I smiled too. I wasn't ashamed of what I would have to do to leave. I wasn't ashamed of what I might end up doing. I was kind of excited for it, actually. It sounded like an adventure, and I was always up for an adventure. It sounded like what I would be going towards, would be much better than what I would be leaving behind.

"When would I have to do this?" I asked him.

"Whenever you wanted to," He told me.

I nodded, and was quiet. I had known him for almost four months. School had just started, and, like I had figured, we met after school at the library now. I had just started my freshmen year. Almost two months into it, and I was still eating lunch on my own.

"Should I start calling you Master now, or when I finally make my actual decision?" I asked him.

"You can start whenever you want to," He said.

"That's what you said last time," I told him.

"This is my first time with an apprentice. I'm not aware if there is etiquette or not. _My _master kidnapped me from my friends several years ago. After a while, though, I didn't care. I got over it. He wasn't always the kind of guy that you would get etiquette from," He said.

I nodded. "What if I decided to not be your apprentice?" I asked him.

He was quiet. "You know about me and my line of work. I may have to kill you," He said. "And I really don't want to have to do that."

I nodded again. I didn't plan on refusing him, but I wanted to know what he would be planning if I had. I was reading a new book this time. For once, it was a regular book. You know, a fictional one. One of those classics that your english teachers insist on you reading.

"I'll work on it," I told him. It was my turn to leave. I had homework. "See you later," I told him.

~666~

I honestly wasn't sure how we decided on it, but whenever I felt the need to leave and agree to be his apprentice, we could meet at the bus station. It was going to be useful. Especially tonight. After knowing Reaper for five months, I was going to run off with him and become his apprentice.

I was worried about what I was going to have to do, but I was willing to do it. I started with Georgie.

"Hey, girl," I said.

"Hey chica. What up?" She asked me, grinning.

"I'm just telling you, I'm leaving tonight," I told her.

"What do you mean?" There was that question again.

"I'm leaving. Denver. I'm not coming back," I said.

"Where are you going?" She demanded.

"I don't know yet," I answered.

"I'm coming with you," She said.

"You can't," I said.

"Why not?"

"Because you just can't," I said.

"You can't, or you don't want me to come with you?" She narrowed her eyes.

"Georgie..." I tried to tell her.

"I thought we were friends! How could you leave me?" She yelled at me. I didn't know she was going to get so mad at me.

"Georgie, I don't want to go away with you mad at me," I pleaded with her.

"How about you just not go away?"

"I have to!" I yelled back. "Look. I'm just leaving. Maybe I'll see you again, maybe not. I'll miss you," I told her. I turned and ran.

That was my first bridge to burn. Now I had two more. The first one, my parents. The second, my grandparents. But seeing as they lived several states away, they would have to come another time.

My parents house was next. This was a bridge I was happy to burn. Literally. The only thing they cared about was their money and their recreational aides. That was what I was going to burn. But, to do that, I would have to wait for later tonight.

I got home and went to the guest room. I had kept my word about not staying in that room after that night. I set my backpack on my desk and pulled out the chair This was going to be a long evening.

I took out a duffle out and went to my closet. I figured that, while I was waiting, I could pack. I started with the book by Pavel. Then my dictionary that was helping me translate it and the notebook I was writing it in.

The next thing I packed was my own copy of Phantom of the Opera that Georgie had given me for my birthday, as well as the soundtrack. Then I turned to the closet. I opened it and looked through the clothes.

I put in my black shorts and a couple of jeans. I threw in a few shirts with both long and short sleeves. I threw in underwear and bras as well. I put in plenty of socks too. The last thing I pit in were my combat boos that I had purchased recently. I put on my tennis shoes, the Vans. As a last thought, I threw in my Puma's.

I zipped it up. I went to my bathroom and grabbed a brush and some ponytail holder and bobby pins. Next, I grabbed my tooth brush and tooth paste. My face wash, moisturizer, shampoo, conditioner, and body wash was next. I opened a side pocket of the duffe back and placed the items inside.

After I had packed, I started to form my plan. I would set up a fire so it wouldn't kill my parents. If they got out in time, that is. But, if they did die, it wouldn't be completely my fault. Maybe I would even call the fire department after I set it. Now I just had to wait.

~666~

I stood at the bottom of my parents' marble staircase. I had a bottle of alcohol in one hand, and a lighter in my other. I had made a trail of alcohol from the bottom of the stairs, up to the safe in my parents room. I had also made trails to all the rooms upstairs too. Each room was filled with as much alcohol as I could find. Since there were only a few rooms upstairs, it could be considered quite a lot.

My mom kept her drugs in the safe with their money and their more expensive liquor. I just had to light the trail, and it would soon all go up in smoke. And I would be free.

I tipped the bottle in my hand and alcohol started pouring out. I stepped back and made my way to the door with the bottle still upside down. The bottle ran out at the door and I set it on the ground.

I had read somewhere that alcohol was major flammable. Let's hope it was true. I turned the lighter on with a flick of my thumb, and the flame jumped to life. I looked at it for a moment, feeling the slight warmth it was giving off.

I would have to get out quick, since I didn't know how long it would take for the flames to reach my parents's room. I opened the door wide, ready for my escape. I also pulled my phone. I had decided that I would call before I set the fire. They would get there faster that way. And I could also toss my phone into the fire.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"There's a fire at 422 East Water Street," I told the person on the other end.

I hung up, dropped the lighter in the puddle of alcohol, and tossed my phone onto the bottom of the stairs. I turned, and ran. I was halfway down the road when I heard the six explosions I had been waiting for. One for my parents' room, four for the guest rooms, and one for my room.

I hiked my duffle bag higher up on my shoulder, and I left. Not ever looking back once.

~666~

I could see the fire of my house from the bus depot. I found Reaper off to the side, watching it.

"Your work?" He asked me.

"I turned my bridge with them, literally," I told him.

"And your friend?" He continued.

"I told her I was leaving and not coming back. She got mad. I guess that's okay, though," I said.

"Everything will get easier. So, you have decided?"

"Yes," I answered grimly.

A bus pulled up. "Shall we?" I nodded.

He offered his hand. I turned back once more. I looked over the city. I would miss the library and the coffee house. I would kinda miss Georgie. But I would have to get over that. It's not like I could go back. Not after setting fire to my house. I accepted his hand.

"This is the point of no return. You know that, right?" He asked me.

"I do. And I wouldn't return even if I had to do so to save my life," I told him.

"Good. Let's go. And, from now until I retire, you are my apprentice, and I am your master."

**Part Two: So Begins The ****Masquerade**

**COMING SOON **


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